


Guess We'll Never Learn

by FloralCrownsandFangirling



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Reylo - Freeform, Star Wars - Freeform, Star Wars Theories, Star Wars: The Force Awakens Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloralCrownsandFangirling/pseuds/FloralCrownsandFangirling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst mistake, was falling in love with a girl and never taking her off your mind and not even knowing her name. </p><p>  After the meeting of a girl he could never quite could understand at a young age, Kylo Ren reunites with her with past misconceptions and ignorance.</p><p>  With Rey being bestowed with seemingly unfathomable powers compared to his own, Kylo Ren tries to take action to get her to the First Order, not only to get her on his side, but to him once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess We'll Never Learn

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written as time allows as well as the chapters being extended until I deem fitting. However, this does not mean that it will be updated once every three months, but it will mean pieces of the chapter will be written and built upon after a series of days. 
> 
> The new movie, in my opinion, has a ton of opportunity for story-line, so this is my take with the two characters that I find would be most suitable. If there are any discrepancies, I will try my best to alter them, as a big fan of the movies, I couldn't bear for something to seem extremely out of place. 
> 
> Also, if you do not link back my name to this or claim it to be your own, I will not take it lightly. I love you sharing, but please don't make my story your own. 
> 
> There is little other to be said, other than if you enjoy feel free to share on whatever medium you can find! I would love to see your opinions as well as feedback for future stories to come. I will try my best to respond to every comment, as I feel that allows me to feel accessible to any and all of the people that will take the time to read this, thank you!
> 
> ( You may also be wondering why I have changed the title. After listening to the 1975 when writing the latest section, I heard the lyric "you're cold and I burn, guess I'll never learn" and thought it was perfectly suited to their relationship.)

If he had to pick one moment he wish he could have forgotten, it would have been the girl. Perhaps it was the land of Jakku, in which his father had taken him to retrieve his antiquated ship. There was always an obsession for retrieving it or at least spotting it, pointing a gun at someone's head and beg for it back. Reluctantly he would drag by him now, yet then an ignorant boy that clung to his leg, giggling in delight. The man picked him up and raised him to his shoulders, the vest soft under his burning feet, curled in anticipation, excitement at the time. He looked back the event now as a toying with him, a puppet demanded to be in the wrong show. 

His mother was with him, her face stern and emotionless, looking past them both in some distant thought. She held her husband's hand tightly, the fly-away strands from her bun whipping into her face. She smiled softly and her lips remained silent. The father of the boy would tell him that his wife was the strongest woman in the whole galaxy and he would be lucky if he would find one like her. He told him of her ferocity, while her brother would smile, discussing with her on how well his skills had become. There was always something that fascinated him about that when he was younger, but it was just an illusion.

Benjamin, they called him then. He remembered them yelling it across the vast desert where he would wander, kicking the sand up in the air, burning his eyes. They would tell him it was set in stars that he would defend the Light Side if Darkness were to strike again. There was always a hatred to that name, he tried to push it back into his mind, to his smallest island where snakes crept up to guard the gates, the very branches of trees would prevent him from ever acknowledging who he once was. Yet, he would always grab something to come through, just to take a peak at the memory one last time. 

They headed to the shack on the edge of the mountainous edifice of sand. It took a while longer then they hoped, their feet sinking into the sand. His mother mentioned she needed to take his father's boots one day, however large they be, to prevent her from whatever he would lead her to. He sat on his father's shoulders, his fingers laced into the belt fashioned around his waist. They were blue, but he never truly remembered pain. He pulled harder until his father set him down. Quickly getting rid of what he did, he looked up in innocence, something his father always fell for. 

"We will be right there Ben, we don't know how these people are, so we are going to keep you away." He pointed his gun to the rusted rectangle with a large creature he couldn't identify. He wasn't listening, but he nodded. 

As they turned their back, his eyes wandered across the mismatched items, the glass faded yet still a sliver of sunlight peeking through. His tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, squinting in the blinding light. He sat, frustrated, on an empty box lying in the sand, which looked like it's own weight was heavy enough. His fingers curled around his chin as he sighed, kicking the box. Beads of sweat dripped down his nose, kissing the front of his shirt. He rubbed his dirty hand across his face, smearing sand across his lips. 

He didn't remember how long he sat there now, not like it mattered at all. There was a certain ambiguity in parts that he didn't want to see, he knew. He didn't need to know that he sat there for thirty minutes or thirty seconds, or if his parents ever came back and checked on him (he highly doubted it). There was never, any important information there. All the details were reserved, for one moment, for the girl.

It was overgrown nails tapping on his shoulder, a concerned whisper behind his ear. "Are your parents here?" It was small, an accent he heard only a few times before. Undeniably feminine. Comforting. 

"They are right there." He pointed with his index finger towards the shack. He snickered at the creature, peculiar in nature. He turned around to face her, his black hair whipping his face. His eyes landed upon her, warm in a rich brown color that was light compared to his very own. Freckles speckled her rosy cheeks, her mouth curving them in with a crooked grin. She held a tiny packet in her hand, only about the size of his palm. She tossed it playfully in the air, catching it quickly.

"Where's yours?" He asked, again fixating his hands around his belt. Something to do. His hands turned blue. 

"They went away. But they'll be back," she answered, still smiling. She was confident. She stood tall and would never even think of looking down, as he did ever so often then. "It doesn't look like you have anything interesting to do." She put the packet in her sleeve, causing a lifted cube at the crook of her elbow. 

"No," he grumbled in frustration. This was the - he counted - 12th planet they had visited and it would always lead back to more clues that would unravel endlessly. He never, for a moment, believed his father would get the ship again. 

"Well..." She rocked on her heels. "I think you should come where I'm staying. It's not much but, I enjoy it. It's cozy and cool in this sunlight." 

He didn't know how to respond, but he nodded in contempt. He would go. His parents never seemed to take up their promises. 

Holding out her hand, she waited. He was silent as if his lips were sewn shut. "Take my hand." She ushered for him, shaking it profusely. He then took it, jerked by her sudden running. She smiled, the back of her top flowing behind her. They ran, breathless, from what they thought they knew. The sun was growing darker, sinking into the sand. The clouds came in, covering the sky in irregular dots. 

"Here." She said without catching her breath. It was a speeder, with a small opening on the side. There she climbed up, barely fitting through the walkway. Following closely behind, he ran and jumped, an attempt to impress her. 

He walked in, the smallness of the place welcoming. A personal hideaway from society. She was already mixing the powdery substance in the packet with some water with her finger. Turning his head, it rose instantly, a sizzling sound revealing a small roll of bread. The other part of her packet was open, her eating it with her finger sloppily. He reached to pick it up for her, but she nodded it off. "Eat it. You're clearly not from here." 

The smile made him feel a certain fire that he still couldn't pinpoint to this day, yet he yearned for it. He reluctantly took a bite, feeling selfish for doing so. It was bland, but he never, not even now, would think about telling her such. 

They sat across from a wall with a few tally marks etched in them. He pointed it out, asking what a peculiar thing a girl like her would do, keeping track of something. 

"I need to restart it actually, today I think is a suitable time." She was silent for once, her lip trembling a little. Her eyes looked down to her feet, limp as though they were in defeat. He leaned closer to her, her heat rushing into his body, his hand cold, he reached for hers. 

"You know, sometimes, I picture myself on an island." She said after a while, her voice not as perked, but not as exhausted. She didn't let go of his hand. "A nice island, with a bunch of trees and flowers. As much greenery as the whole galaxy." She laughed, almost in pain, stretching her hands out. "It doesn't make you seem like you are alone. Sometimes I'll even play on the sand, the one that come in myths. The one that is almost cold to touch."

He listened to her describe it, the night creeping into the speeder. He sat there, legs outstretched as he looked beside her. The stars were out, sending shaking light onto them. 

In fragmented light they whispered their secrets, their mutual loneliness. She told him of her parents, who went away to somewhere she may never know. She cried on his shoulder, she laughed by his side. They became something in the matter of hours. When their tongues were getting tired, he turned to her one last time. "You can come with us if you want," He mentioned. "It will be better there, you won't be-"

"I can't." Her once accepted fate gone. "They might come back without me." She was yelling at him, tears in her eyes. His mouth was dry, anxious in what she felt about him. 

He never wanted to be stronger than her. He never wanted to be the one that would overpower her. He didn't want to hurt her. He bit his tongue, sighing. 

"I have to go to my parents." He stood up, only for her to stand with him. She kissed him softly, her tears splattering on the sand, clarity on smudged glass. Her brown eyes looked down, her freckles seemingly diminished. She was still beautiful, holding his hand, nails digging in his skin.

They did their best to remove the tally marks. Still indents, but the lines were gone. They walked out of the opening, through the sand. Their knees were covered, they laughed halfheartedly. They talked about the stars, they talked about how they were so bright that night. They talked about everything, but not for enough time. 

When he finally pinpointed his parents, aimlessly wandering the desert, he urged her to follow him there. She stood motionless, shaking her head. The only gesture was a small kiss on the cheek and then dust replaced it, kicking it over his worn shoes, she ran for the hills, back to isolation. 

Walking up the sand as slow as he could, he tried to delay every moment after. He was welcome by one slap by his father, asking him where he had been in tears. They were worried, they told him. He nodded, trying to comprehend, but all failing to be anything but white noise. 

He looked at it now in disappointment. Perhaps it was sadness that he couldn't quite say. He looked behind, hoping she would come back every couple minutes, aiming to see her again. The problem was he never experienced anything so unimportant yet so dark. He stood there in silence, not even knowing her name. 

\--- ---

She couldn't cry yet. Her eyes were blurry, sobs rose up in her throat but were immediately pushed down, farther and farther, trying to prevent from it happening so soon. For all she saw, there were so many possibilities: he could come back, pull on her tunic and beg for her to come again. Maybe it was a mistake and his parents were someone else - her mind buzzed with any way for his presence could come back to her. However, unlike her parents, she never denied that he was gone. She always knew, that it was just another temporary intrusion of her life, an attempt to attach to something she could never be prepared for again. She dragged her feet, not caring if the cold sand slid into the holes in her shoes.

Her body weighed twice as much, a burden that she reluctantly tried to drag up the hill to get to her speeder. More then anything, she wanted to relieve herself from the agony that she once felt, to take everything she ignored for the time being and pull it out, shaking her entire being. There was a certain relief in crying, she thought. It was how she thought about the concerns of the world around her. Everyone imagines something at night, her parents once told her. Whether good or bad, it was always good to express her emotion. Yet, even when she felt as if she could have someone on that island, someone to show her the stars at night, he left. 

The subconscious of her mind navigated her that night. They told her feet to go where they always been as her eyes could not see clearly. She tried to step up upon the speeder and missed, her head shoving into the sinking sand. She rose quickly, sand in her mouth, hair, face. She cried. There was nothing more weak then to cry right before you were free of judgement. Someone could see her or hear her from miles away.

Her shoulders were collapsing, her head was spinning. The entire world that she thought she escaped was back again. There was nothing that she could ever had said to describe it, even now. She couldn't say the right feeling. It would be a euphemism to call it sadness. There was nothing worse than the undeniable fate of never leaving. Her tally marks were no longer days that her parents had spent, in hope for them to return, but in the counting of days since she met him, the number of days in which she was disappointed. 

If she were stronger, she would have gotten up. But she was never strong. He saw her as such, with such eyes that always thought of every move in such curiosity, as if he never met someone like her before. She never met someone like him either. She didn't meet anyone that she could talk to without them telling her to quit daydreaming, to find some salvageable piece of junk. "I am not daydreaming," she retorted, "I simply am planning the future." Her eyes would crinkle in contempt, a satisfaction that she hoped for now, she couldn't imagine such outlandish ideas. 

Her eyes directed towards the skies, the only thing that she could look at with some connection. She wheezed in relief, all of the toxins that once prevented her from feeling anything, relieved from her. Pointing to a star, she imagined he was there, sitting beside her. His eyes followed it, a tiny speck in the sky. 

"That's where my parents headed." She sighed, trying to shake the brokenness of the sentences. "I bet it's a nice place." Lies, all of it. That's what kept her sane in every waking moment. The false ideologies of her parents, that way, she felt that perhaps there was a chance for escape after they returned. He nodded in agreement, the coolness of his palm squeezing hers. 

"See the one way over there?" He pointed back. It was directly due-west of where she pointed, but much larger. "That is where we came from. It's not as great as your island, I must say. It was just simply a stop that we had to do for my father to gain more money. He wanted to see if he could get double of the deal with half of what he promised." He laughed. She was used to this saying, he often passively referenced him as selfish, a cheat. She told him at least they loved him. 

It was silent, but it was calming. Her eyes were getting heavy, leaning her head against his shoulder. She moved her lips one more time, now profusely chapped, "please stay" she whispered, as she was desperate. He held her head, combing through the individual strands of hair. 

She didn't need an island that night. The dreams, she still could not pinpoint in how long they lasted, started a fully satisfied mindset in which she was submerged in as she slipped into sleep, a smile slipping across her lips.

There was something in her hand, she remembered. The heavy grip of her hand bearing onto the object in her hand. There was a switch in which her thumb was on, yet she never dare to turn it on. It was familiar, yet she couldn't say how. 

"What do I do with this?" She yelled, as the voice echoed through the snow. Her boots circled in a tiny patch, looking around her. When she turned back to her original spot, she jumped, a figure impeding her vision. His cape was black, similar to the eyes of the boy still freshly on her mind. The red light glowed, turning the snow into puddle around him. It buzzed with such fury, she backed away, shaking her head. 

There he would stay, his body trembling as if there was something that brought fear into him. His hands shook as he clenched a fist to his chest, splattering red on the perfection that lay before him. She only dare look up then, needing to know who was behind such danger, what made her feel so eerily comforted and broken. 

His hair was longer now. His eyes were deep brown. A voice whispered behind her ear, an elderly man in which she never heard of before. She opened her mouth to speak as the laser hit her in the chest, yet just enough to graze her, a burning sensation overcoming her. Her body felt weak as she coughed, the blood that splattered on the snow reflecting that of her own. She felt something in his eyes, despair perhaps, as she clenched her chest. He looked at her in sympathy, contemplative and undeniably hopeful. The light dropped, a sizzling sound repeating throughout the shadows. As tears rose in her eyes, she was taken aback, as if she was thrust through a ship at light-speed.

She felt like should would fall on impact, expecting the cold of the snow and it was cold linoleum, as if she was in a ship. She looked around and as she tried to run her hands through her hair, she was taken aback by the bondage that laced around her wrists.. The only thing she could hear was an increasing voice, one that was bearing against her entire being, pressing through her. 

The Dark...the shadows whispered. They felt as if they were choking her, picking out the greatness of her being. Her eyes clenched shut, red pulsing in the back of her eyelids. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. It was taking her away, it was withering her heart. She never could have done anything, as the feeling of loneliness mixed with a cold rage. She was scared, tears streaking her cheeks. 

The voices amalgamated into one, a one that was so low it was warped. "Come join me..." It begged of her. She shook her head in frustration. She didn't know what it meant, she didn't care. Screaming for her parents to come take her away. 

Ships flew past her ears, whipping her hair into her mouth. They promised of escape. She held her hand out to the sky, a tiny hand even compared to her young selves, the one reflecting the pain she felt in the silent leaving. The sun fell upon her, the heat relentless against her.

There was something comforting about the voice she remembered. She woke up in her feigned embrace, still stroking her hair. He told her that she was freezing. She was whispering something during her dream. She nodded. "I know," she muttered, sighing softly in jagged pieces. He took her shoulder, his coldness matching hers, creating some sort of heat side by side. 

"It's okay," was the the endless mantra she would repeat to herself. "I'm okay." It was an endless cycle of loneliness and hopefulness that weighed upon her until that point in time. But today, she was numb for the future, wishing for an end for pain.

He held her, kissing her softly in the rising morning breeze. Their lips parted, both abraded by the others chapped lips. 

As the stars started to fade and her mind was to weak to dream up a story of them, his chin lay upon her head as they sat in silence, hoping for a better day that would never come.

\--- ---

He would never know of the event. He remembered holding the lightsaber but never receiving it. An absence of feeling but never eradicating it. 

The true answer lay upon one day in his academy, at the age of twelve. Luke held his hand tightly, urging that he use it correctly time sternly, but never lost patience with him. Ben's greatest fear was disappointment and he licked his lips and tried again. It failed, but his mentor urged him that he was doing better. That never made him feel comforted. He would continue to the brink of tears as he pushed through, trying to get his thoughts together. 

It was simple. He just had to put his right foot forward, hold it over his shoulder and angle it just so...no, it wasn't that easy. His cheek was abraded with the constant biting and by the end, he could only feel the pain that ran through him. Luke told him that was enough, lowering his hand as he burst into rigid tears. His uncle held him tightly, telling him to come back a couple days from now. It was never worth the frustration or pain. Nodding in reluctance, Luke would take his lightsaber and put it on the ground. They waited for his parents, that would assure him that it was worth it; even though more of the class seemed to be dedicated to them talking than him learning. 

He would wander off, running throughout the halls of the seemingly endless Jedi Temple. His parents would shake their heads and pick him up, urge him not to do it again. Yet he did. That day was no different, as he peaked around the corner, jogging to the end of the hall, turning left instead of his usual right. His fingertips touched the linoleum, coldness piercing through his veins. The shiny surface glazed over with five wavering lines. The rule was that he couldn't stop until he reached something that caught his interest, which unfortunately for his parents, wasn't very often. 

Left. 

Hallways would look all the same, perhaps the only item that changed often was the decreasing of light with each turn. 

Right. 

His fingers were burning now, he pulled them away.

Right. 

His feet were getting tired. They wobbled softly, but he was not willing to give up. He shook his head, knowing to keep on.

Left. 

Right. 

The light was dim by then, barely able to see his own hand in front of him. He debated whether or not to go back, scared for his safety. Perhaps he went to far this time. No, there was no choice but to keep going. 

He ran into a wall turning too sharply, a soft red light pulsing across the black. It grew as his vision shook, the light radiating a certain heat. Drawn to it, he kept going, as if they wanted to lure him upon certain doom. A trap for the weak, he would call it now. 

When he finally turned to it, blinding his eyes, it was a flash of awestruck power. He saw a lightsaber, but never in a color he had ever seen before; it was thought of as a myth. Luke said their was no true people to use them anymore. His soft, innocent hands reached for it. His smile illuminated against the weapon, burning in the artificial night. It seemed as if it was slow motion trying to reach it, but as soon as he picked it up, a million things rushed through him. Death, despair, loneliness, anger, hatred. The hand slipped, dropping it suddenly. The sound made him jump, so loud that it boomed inside of his ears.

Footsteps echoed as it raised above the area and then raised to the figure's height. He towered over him, smiling softly over the starlight. His hand picked the lightsaber gingerly, turning off the light to give the room an eerie black light. 

"I was told I could find a Jedi like you here." The figure told him, an accent like the girl. The island invaded again as the invisible hand jerked his small body, pulling his forward to the Darkness and away from the Light.

There was a certain bewilderment in his young eyes, as he didn't know what to do in such an event. He looked around as the man dragged him along the hall, his foot still burning. He wanted to ask questions, on where they were going, where they would be, but his lips wouldn't move, as if they were frozen in fear yet excitement. He never knew he was this important...

"What's your name?" The man asked in the night, not as menacing as he expected. His eyebrows furrowed, wondering why he needed to know. When he tried to speak at first, he was mute. The lips could move with no sound, as if his voice was stolen with this newly-found man. 

When he could finally regain his speech he spoke. "Ben." The voice was small, quieter than a whisper. The man made nodded in understanding. Their footsteps echoed through the hall but he knew that no one would have heard.

"Nice to meet you Ben." His accent pierced through him as he tried to forget about the girl for one moment. He heard her in people, she was in the stars at night. She was everywhere except where he was. He knew that it was a failed dream to pursue and yet Ben tried over again. 

"What's your name?" He asked, trying to not falter his speech. The statement also distracted him for the time being. The voice was scared, cowardly. If he could see it now, he would wonder how that boy could be part of himself. 

"Hux. But you can call me General." The smile was felt, a sadistic smile that could mean nothing but a trap. Taken aback, he let go of his grip, the urge to run away taking over his body. Planning the course in his head, back to his mother's arms. Tears streaked his cheeks as his feet lifted, the feeling of freedom filling him. Breaths in preparedness as he took off, not daring to look behind - 

The man had it in his hand. The light was on. He could see in his peripheral vision. The red was warning him that he couldn't escape. 

"I thought someone like you would listen." Hux taunted. "I know you have it in you. Ben Solo." 

He never told him his last name. He wanted to ask why he knew him. He was not important. He couldn't even get his father to listen to him. 

The running pierced through the hallway. His heart overpowered whatever sound around him. The man's footsteps were distant, as if there was a glass door between them. He turned to what he believed was the right way, the right. The heartbeats paused and for once, he was aware. 

The buzz was behind him, the light obstructed from view. Frozen in time, Ben closed his eyes, sobbing. His lips quivered as the man took it, the light now reflecting off the surface. He saw his face briefly as he was stricken from the side of his neck down, the pain overtaking his body. He yelped, crumpling to the floor. 

The man kicked him, the pain accelerating. The blood seeped from his side to the floor, creating a small puddle of red beside him. He could not take the pain - he never experienced it before. The man kicked him one more time, his eyes black. The dream-like state welling over him. 

His scar still was on his body, the perfectly executed line which imprinted a certain hatred, but not to the one that inflicted it upon him.

\--- ---

Day 747. The light was beaming softly into her speeder, warming the present state of it. She was sleeping upon the floor, the rough blanket that was shaken off her shoulders and lay twisted on her feet. The sleep was a dreamless one, the one that is certain to lead into relief in the morning, as you were almost certain it would bring nightmares. The girl got up silently, the dawn urging her to hurry. She had to go farther in the desert today, the others yesterday took all the parts in her usual spot, which had brought her quite a heftier profit than usual. She sighed, never winning. 

Her staff was on the counter, that she quickly picked up and slid across her shoulder. The two portion had left her satisfied last night and she was not going to fight this morning for more. She simply aroused, heading to the outside of her vehicle. The sun was already sweltering, the beads of sweat laying upon her worn tunic already. Taking the strip of fabric from the side, she wrapped it upon the sides of her face, then placing her goggles upon her eyes. The world was tinted a light green, with specks of dust lined across the horizon. 

She climbed to the top it, igniting the engine with a sputter and a cough, rumbling to life. She held the handlebars in front of her, a faded silver slit, she felt their welcome of a new day. She smiled. 

When she determined her route for the day, she took the direction she planned, parting the sand in front of her. The air whirred in her ears, the sand's whispered softly along with it. The girl heard that there was a junkyard on Jakku, a mythical place where supplies would come in abundance. It was just a myth probably, but she wanted to make sure. 

Her eyes scanned around her as she tried to pick out something that would catch her eye. There was a couple of ragged scraps, but that would give her less than what she had received now; which frankly was not enough. However, the girl still stopped, shoving it into the side of her speeder. She continued searching, hoping that she could gain more for herself. She was the same size as she was two years ago, a frail state with another half a foot high. The girl stomach rumbled, but she ignored such pain as insignificant. 

That is when she saw it. A beacon of sand that descended into a drop that was around seventy degrees down. She smiled, never seeing such an opportunity. She hastened herself off, thinking about a possible way to get down faster. In excitement, she pulled the thin rope that was on the side of her speeder, whose only use was to carry supplies beforehand. Ripping it of the hooks, all the contents spilled, the rusty tools that she had found falling onto the ground. She ignored it, the contents not mattering to her endless curiosity. 

It was dragged to the very edge, where she held upon the end with her ragged nails, her body ushering it quickly to fall. The bottom came in no time, and she dragged it to the closest place in which the metal ends wouldn't grow too warm to touch. Her eyes then was directed to the new surroundings, as if stepping into a new world. There was a helmet, in which she took for herself, a couple of old ship parts that she found dragging her feet. 

"This is glorious." She smiled, the freckles curving to match it. She twirled in the mid-morning heat, a myth that finally for once was right. She wandered along, until they were landed upon the ship. A piece of weathered wear and tear, but it made her think of escape, the ship the boy said that his father was always searching for. The stairs were even laid out, lying upon her as if it was setting a pathway for her to come on. 

She did. She ran through the sand. The sand stuck to her pants, relief flooding her mind. She ran upon the metal. It seemed out of place in the world she was surrounded in. As she was entering the ship, Rey wondered of the people that used to inhabit the place. She was certain they were wonderful people. 

"Look at this." The ship was in worse shape that it looked on the exterior. She didn't know why she was expecting something brand new, the place was not even heard of by the oldest scavengers she knew. She shrugged, trying to find the control room. The endless hallways were always getting to her, misleading her to doors that would lead to tables with holographic games that she recognized from decades ago.

The door didn't look distinguished from anything else. It was just like all the other ones. But it did lead to an influx of light that made her know that she had to return with her days worth in a couple hours. The windows surrounded the seats, two of them. There was also an endless array of buttons and knobs. She never seen it all, but they fascinated her. 

Her hands would randomly press one, and then it made a sputtering sound. She pulled the lever, it didn't thrust forward. She was disappointed, her shoulders sank in defeat. Rey promised that she would come back tomorrow though, as she wanted to make sure that this would be hers. She would stay here now, as it was much better than surrounded by people all day. 

Holding her hands together, she felt tears in her eyes. She was hoping that freedom would come upon her sooner. Again, it was a false ideology that she jumped too soon. She slumped into her chair, the leather worn comfortably. Her head nodded off, the pillow softly holding her head. 

She wished that she could have shown him the ways of the ship and how it was so big. She wished to take the ship and run off to where he was from and tell him that he was right. She should have went. 

But for now, the calendar would still count up to the days in which he had left. She didn't know what he looked like now or if he would care. But he was the only amount of sanity she had in her world. She never would forget him if she tried. 

Her mind wandered into another dreamless sleep, a disappointment when you were expecting a dream. 

\--- TBC ---


End file.
